Page 37 of Making It While Faking It

“Making sure my family is safe,” he says without pause.

The way he’s looking at me—is he sending me a message too?

“Same,” I snap back.

“Your favorite color, Treasure?” Dr. Brandt asks in the same calming voice. “And keep your eyes on each other. You’re doing well.”

“All of them,” I say because that’s the truth.

I’m surprised by how the right corner of Achilles’s mouth plays with a hint of a smile. I think he liked my answer.

“Achilles?” Dr. Brandt asks.

“Red.” The way his eyebrows quirked up ever so slightly. I feel as if there’s a salacious meaning behind his answer. And I’m certain it has nothing to do with me. However, I can see it. He has a racy side.Hmm…

“And Achilles, what do you like most about Treasure?”

“Her sense of humor,” he says without pause.

I gape at him as my jaw drops.

“And Treasure, what do you like about Achilles?”

I’m still speechless and confused. “You think I’m funny?” I thoughtlessly ask.

Achilles answers with a brisk nod.

“Treasure, let’s stay on track,” Dr. Brandt says. I’m surprised she’s so dogmatic about this little exercise we’re doing.

I think there’s a method to her madness, and it’s not as if I don’t have an answer to her question, because I do. However, I’m not certain if I want to let Achilles know that even though he’s bossy, I like it.

I turn to Dr. Brandt, who actually has her eyes closed. “Can we circle back for an answer?” I say, spinning my index finger.

“No,” she says calmly and asks the question again. “The truth, Treasure. The truth.”

Achilles hasn’t stopped watching me, and his eyes appear to be laughing at me too.

“He’s responsible, reliable. I like that,” I quickly say.

Then his eyebrows quirk up as our staring transitions into something deeper. I can kiss him. I want to kiss him. My lips fight the urge to do it.

“Achilles, what was your favorite subject of study during high school?” Dr. Brandt asks, not missing a beat.

“Math,” he says.

Damn it. His answers are so quick. He’s good at this.

“Treasure?” she asks.

“Home economics,” I say, attempting to be just as swift with my answers.

His left eye narrows. “Really?”

He seems very surprised. I nod. “I didn’t open a restaurant for the money. I like to cook.”

He grunts thoughtfully. “So do I.”

“The both of you attended university, yes?” Dr. Brandt asks. Her eyes are still closed and enfolded fingers sitting demurely on her lap.